


Knave of Hearts

by Werelibrarian



Category: Daredevil (Comics)
Genre: Fix-It of Sorts, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 10:07:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11355246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Werelibrarian/pseuds/Werelibrarian
Summary: "Come to Monaco," her husband’s voice says, and then silence.She’s on a plane by dinner time.





	Knave of Hearts

When Becky explains to Milla that if you break an innocent man out of jail, you've made him a criminal and probably a fugitive, she cries.

The ADA, a Upper East Side trust fund baby probably two years out of the law degree his dad bought him, tells her they have video of the Punisher shoving her husband in front of him as he breaks out of Rykers, and describes, nearly gleefully, the way Castle lowers his gun at the last second. Even without the coercion, Matt keeps moving forward. That's the moment when he goes from a kidnapping victim to a jailbreak accomplice, and, even if he got all the other charges dropped, they'll nail him for this one with one hand tied behind their backs.

Becky, who can probably see the way her Milla clenches her fists around her cane, reaches over and puts a stabilizing, restraining hand on her forearm .

For months, Milla goes to work every day feeling empty, feeling like an automaton. Matt's friends drop in on her, but their sympathy makes her exhausted; they mourn the loss of a fellow soldier, not the love of a lifetime. She longs for Matt's strong arms, but she also longs, inexplicably, for Foggy, who would just hold her and understand.

But Foggy's dead. Gone the way that, Matt claims, everyone he loves eventually goes.

She swallows down tears as she deletes yet another voice-message full of static from the system. She's been getting these every morning.

One month after she started getting those messages, she listens all the way to the end.

"Come to Monaco," her husband's voice says, and then silence.

She's on a plane by dinner time.

Ten hours later she's got her arms and legs around Matt and her back against the inside of the hotel room door.

"I found Foggy,"Matt pants into her neck, "he's alive, he's in New Jersey. I'm gonna bring him home."

Milla cries out, loud and unashamed, because without Foggy Nelson, Matt was almost unrecognizable. Foggy coming back means her husband coming back.

"How did you find him?" she asks, wrapping silk sheets around her naked body. Matt's taken a suite at one of the casinos, paid for with money she simply isn't going to ask about.

"Vanessa," Matt says shortly, and goes back to kissing his way up her leg. He hasn't been able to keep his hands off her since she arrived, and his ardour skyrockets after a series of shadowy bribes to the Witness Protection agents get Foggy bundled onto a chartered plane bound for Monaco. "His family thinks he's dead. Why shouldn't he come here?" he answers, when she asks him what he's planning.

They have sex in the bathroom at the airport as they wait for Foggy to arrive, and they're kissing up against a wall even as his flight is announced.

She hears a suitcase drop with a loud, crowd-stopping bang.

"Sweet tapdancing Jesus," Foggy breathes.

"Language," Matt says, voice choked with tears.

Foggy runs, wraps his arms around both of them, kisses Matt's hair messily, whispers, "what have you done, Matt? What the hell have you done?"

**

They start off by gambling. Matt cleans up at poker, provided that Foggy--from any corner of the casino floor--tells him what he's holding.

Foggy himself isn't half-bad at blackjack, and the usually cool, distant dealers fall like dominos for his star-struck American joe act.

Milla flirts and gets free drinks from every server, learns the name of every security guard who feels a little bit sorry for the blind lady who came to Monaco but can only listen to the high life, and finds out exactly which American crime boss owns the casino on the other side of the piazza.

"I don't have my costume with me," Matt hedges, but she hears excitement in his voice.

"We made eight grand tonight. I'll buy you a black scarf," Foggy returns, sipping the champagne that's been sent to Matt's room.

In addition to the scarf, Foggy buys Milla a gown that's five years out of fashion, buys himself a tuxedo a size too tight, and the two of them case the joint as a couple of out-of-their-depth-but-trying tourists while Matt prowls around on the roof.

Foggy goes courtroom-focused at the poker table and the tension of it, listening to Foggy's opponents curse and stutter and fold, one by one, is exhilarating. When she grabs him by the tie and kisses him in celebration, he gasps.

"You're kinda sexy when you're ruthless," she says, as people around them applaud.

Laughing incredulously, he tucks her against his chest and whispers in her ear, "I shoulda guessed you'd be as much trouble as him."

Back in the hotel room, Matt slips through the window and sniffs the air. "Did you two have a good night?"

"We made out," Milla says, her new silk nightgown making the motion of twining her body around Matt's unbearably smooth, "like bandits."Matt laughs and kisses her.

"Suddenly not sure I didn't actually die," Foggy says faintly from the sofa.

"You do not get to joke about that for at least another twenty years," Matt growls into her mouth.

"Foggy won sixteen grand," Milla brags. "I wanted to...congratulate him...right at the poker table."

Matt's big palm slides over her ass as she pulls his mask off and ruffles his hair. "Did Foggy say no?"

"I know you can't see me, but I am still here," a dry voice says.

"He called me trouble," Milla says, ignoring him.

"You are. The best kind." He picks her up by the waist and drops her onto Foggy's lap.

"Oh god," Foggy moans, as Matt tips her head back (right onto Foggy's shoulder) and licks up her neck like she's ice cream. "Maybe we should talk about this?"

"What do you want to talk about?" Matt pants, pushing Milla's nightgown up over her hips and sucking a hot mark onto her thigh.

"...I don't remember."

"Let me know when it comes back to you." If Milla can hear that much smirk, it must be obnoxiously smug to look at, but she's too busy gripping Foggy's legs as Matt's tongue slips inside her.

"Oh god," Foggy says again, but this time it's breathy. His thumbs sweep over her knuckles. "The two of you, you're so…"

She's beginning to shake, her legs tensing and tensing. Tentatively, Foggy glides one hand over her stomach, and Matt stops what he's doing--Milla whines--and kisses it.

Foggy sounds like a pain he's had for 32 years is finally beginning to ease.

"What's he doing?" she asks, as Matt keeps her humming with his thumb on her clit.

"He's--he's sucking on my fingers."

"Do you like it?"

"Parts of me do."

Milla reaches between her legs, past Matt, past her dripping pussy, and cups the bulge inside Foggy's tuxedo pants. "I think I found which part," she says over his hiss.

Matt lets go of Foggy's fingers with a pop and groans both their names at once, the consonants and vowels all smashed together. She hears him pawing at his own belt.

"Hear that?" Milla kisses the question onto Foggy's ear. "That's what it sounds like when Matt's at the end of his rope."

"What do you plan to do about it?" Foggy's lips brush hers.

Milla throws her head back, feeling like a queen on a throne, and brings Matt towards her with her heel hooked over his shoulder.

"Kiss Foggy, Matt."

"No, it's ok, you don't have to--" Foggy starts.

"I want to,"Matt says, nearly pleading, "if you want me to."

"Oh my god, just come here," Foggy says, sounding broken, and yanks Matt in for a noisy kiss, full of teeth and pent-up frustration.

"I like being between you two," Milla says when they break apart, gasping.

"I like it too," Matt says, stroking her cheek. "Fog?"

"I can't believe I was dead two days ago."

Matt sinks his teeth into Foggy's neck, and he bucks up into Milla. "You _are_ going to stop joking about that."

"Or what, you'll bite me again?" Foggy retorts, breathlessly.

"I can arrange it," Matt growls.

"How did you two ever run a business," Milla sighs. She rises, bumps Matt out of the way with her hip, and settles back on Foggy's knees, facing him. His belt, smooth leather and brass hot from both their bodies, falls open under her hands. "Foggy. Do you want to come to bed with us?"

"Just for tonight, or?"

"As long as you want us," Matt promises, moulding himself to Foggy's side and turning his face for another kiss, tender this time. "I thought I lost you, Foggy. I can't stand not being near you anymore."

"And Milla?"

She smiles. Always the practical one, Foggy. Matt might be able to hear heartbeats but Foggy understands how people feel things better than she thinks her husband ever will. Does she love Foggy the ways he loves Matt? No. But she loves Foggy's steady, unassuming support and how she's seldom far from his mind because Matt never is. And maybe she fell in love with Matt knowing that Foggy was already a part of him, and so by extension...

But that's--that's too messy for tonight, so she leans in and says hotly, "I really like it when you win at poker."

Foggy squeezes her waist. "Yeah," he clears his throat, "Ok. Let's go be irresponsible."

\--

The next day, they get a truly obscene amount of room service and make a plan to bankrupt the mob-owned casino across the piazza.

"Hey, Danny Ocean," Foggy calls from the bed, "what is it with you and wanting to scale the highest building on your first try?"

"Dakota's been doing some sleuthing for me--she says she's going to punch you in the un-dead face when she sees you again, by the way--and she found out that the Maggia are using the profits from that casino to pay for ten kinds of crime in the states." Matt states, setting down his coffee cup and padding into the bedroom to stretch out on top of the sheets. She doesn't think he's put on pants since they woke up.

"Matt, _no_."

"What happened to 'let's be irresponsible'?"

"Letting you fuck me into the mattress while your wife holds my hand is a little bit different than stealing from a casino run by an international mafia! I can't believe I actually have to spell that out for you."

"Someone's going to make that up to me tonight, don't think I've forgotten," Milla remarks, popping a grape into her mouth.

"We could do that now,"Matt's voice could be spread on toast, it's so honeyed.

"Excuse me, can we pay attention to my outrage?" Foggy grouses.

Matt crawls over the sheets, and Milla can hear Foggy's knees falling open.

"I can't go home, Foggy," he murmurs against Foggy's lips, "none of us can, not really. But we can still make our home safer, even from here. So I'm going to."

Milla eats another grape. Foggy sighs in her direction. "What are you getting out of this?"

"Excitement. Money. Sex," she shrugs, "free drinks. Helping the people of Hell's Kitchen. A chance to make the DA's office look stupid."

"We're gonna end up in the Port Hercule wearing concrete boots," Foggy sighs again.

"No one's gonna see us coming," Matt promises, "come on. A blind couple and an average American schmo? Even if they remember our faces they'll never suspect us."

"No, he's right. Notari, the Maggia pit-boss, he already likes me, and no one's seen all three of us together. How easy would it be to convince him Matt's trying to steal me away from you?"

"Tie in some cash in the damsel in distress act. You've got honest money that I'm trying to steal along with your wife, money that he'd get if he ran me off--make saving her from me twice as sweet," suggests Matt.

Foggy shakes his head. "We could never pull that off."

She snorts. "People always think the blind are gullible. The only time they're not worried is when they're trying to pull one over on us."Matt huffs a bitter agreeing laugh. "And they never realize that we might also know how to lie."

"Maybe you're secretly a double-oh agent behind those glasses, Milla-my-dove, but I have an honest face and I couldn't sell water to a man on fire."

Both Matt and Milla burst out laughing and snuggle down into the blankets to rest their heads on Foggy's broad chest. "Tell it to someone who's never heard you dismantle that frat-boy ADA," Matt kisses against his jaw.

Foggy makes a considering sound. "Concrete boots, never having to talk to that twerp again. Concrete boots, never having to talk to that twerp again…" He sighs. "We'll need clothes."

"We've got money."

"We'll need space, and not directly across the piazza from them."

"We'll rent in the town."

"We'll need bait," Milla interjects.

Foggy goes thoughtfully quiet. "I might call that Swiss banker I met last night at the blackjack table,"he says finally.

"You think he'll want to talk to you?"

"Once I found out he what he did, I threw the game," Foggy says ruefully, "and bought him several drinks."

"Clever," Matt chuckles, his hand finding Milla's and sliding them both down Foggy's torso and under the blankets. "You know what clever does to us."

**Author's Note:**

> For the Daredevil Bingo square: Conman AU 
> 
> Come say hi at www.werelibrarian.tumblr.com


End file.
